The Life and Passion of William of Norwich (Penguin Classics)

by Thomas of Monmouth

  [XV]

  Around that time a certain Hathewis, daughter of Edwin, the priest of Taverham,16 whose grandmother had been sister to William’s grandmother, was bent and weak in body. And we think it was mostly thanks to that feeling of kinship that she came to the tomb of the holy martyr William, as if to a family refuge, and, in a trice, received the deserved remedy of health.

  [XVI]

  In those days Hugelina of Rockland,17 whose feet were stuck to her buttocks due to a defect of nature, was conveyed by her father in a wheeled vehicle – called a civeria18 – to the tomb of the holy martyr. On that day a certain boy, Baldwin from the province of Lincoln, whose sinews from the knees down to the calves and feet had dried out, and who was denied the power of movement, was also conveyed to Norwich similarly in a litter. But when need forced him, he went on his knees, supported by hand-crutches. Both, indeed, were carried to the tomb of the holy martyr at the same time and were restored to full health by the intercession of his merits at the same time, too.

  And not many days later a certain boy called Herbert, the son of one Berengar of Norwich, blind and mute from his earliest youth, was led by his parents to the tomb of the blessed martyr; and on that same day of his arrival he returned home seeing and speaking. Also, a certain Ralph, son of Richard of Hadeston,19 weak in all his limbs, was brought to Norwich by his relatives and was cured thanks to the merits of Saint William.

  [XVII]

  And while these and other similar miracles took place in Norwich to the praise and glory of the glorious martyr, his power showed itself to be outstanding and glorious also upon the sea. For when the sea was in raging tempest, a ship was in great danger far from shore. Immense waves were sometimes going down to the depths and creating a fearful abyss, and sometimes rising exceptionally high and threatening to overwhelm the fragile boat. And so now it was as if the ship were raised to heaven, and now it was exposed to a fearsome fall. The rage of the winds and the deluge of rain grew fiercer and fiercer, the sky was stormy, the seas tumultuous and everything threatened destruction. Ropes and sailyards were torn, the sail was cut asunder, the mast only just stayed in its place, the shivering of the ship made it seem clear that only death remained.

  And so the captain was desperate and did not know what to do next. But then came an idea. He grabbed the ship’s abandoned rudder and turned the prow to the shore, putting aside their planned course, and, persuaded by his colleagues – and especially by a priest from Thetford,20 who had come with them from Norway21 – called on the help of the blessed martyr William. They all committed themselves and all their belongings together with the ship to his protection, and so with a straight course they made for the nearest shore.

  What more? The holy martyr’s help was invoked and suddenly the rage of the winds began to calm. The sky and the sea gradually became serene again. But the ship ran a speedy course, the sea’s swell subsided and, not far from the shore, the ship came upon a prominent sandbank and sank into the devouring sand. Almost nowhere was safe. If one avoided danger in the troubled depths of the sea, one incurred it in the shallows. Seeing this, the troubled sailors called out together, and, by then having little trust in the ship, believing indeed that it was shattered, they launched the skiff they had within it, and sought at least to save their bodies. Taking counsel for the safety of their bodies, therefore, they left all their belongings in the ship with the sail still spread, and committed everything to the protection of the holy martyr William, vowing to give him a tenth of all that might be saved of their belongings on it.

  The ship was left at a distance, exposed, I say, to the winds and the sea, and the skiff was saved and landed on the shore with the sailors. It was evening and night was already coming, heavy with dark shadows. But what an amazing, almost incredible thing! For the ship which had been exposed all night long to the waves and to the movement of the tide – now pressed into the sand, now raised up – yet was held as if fixed to the shore by the anchor of divine power. As dawn broke they gathered to revisit the ship and were amazed that it had not sunk. So they entered into the skiff and, with the help of the waves of the calm sea, hurried towards the ship; and, finding it safe and whole, they rejoiced in amazement. Without delay, they threw themselves into the common task. The sail was quickly mended, the ropes repaired, and they were ready to sail. The tide and wind lent a hand and they were carried into the port called ‘Charelfluot’,22 on a prosperous course. Landing there, they thanked God and Saint William their saviour; and, as they had vowed, they offered a tithe of all they had in the ship. They transferred to the holy martyr in Norwich the sum collected of the tithes by the hands of the said priest of Thetford and some of his associates, and committed themselves to his protection.

  A certain Humphrey of Norwich, when the ship in which he was sailing was endangered and sank in the harbour mouth at Scarborough, in danger of death, called upon the help of the saint William the martyr, and he was the only one of them all calling upon the martyr, so he was alone among all to be saved by divine power and in a miraculous manner, and most wonderfully was brought to shore unharmed, quite against the expectations of them all.

  [XVIII]

  A mere accumulation of miracles is bound to bring tedium even to eager readers. The number of miracles was growing large, because God’s power did not fail in His glorious martyr. Let there be no tedium, therefore, in hearing what Christ offers His believers. Let us make public and include on the present page that miracle of extraordinary nobility which took place in AD 1168 in the Chapel of Saint William in the Wood,23 and which chanced to be seen by the eyes of many present.

  Bishop William [Turbe] of Norwich had dedicated that chapel on the octave of Easter, the fifth calends of May [27 April].24 After a few days had passed since the dedication, some people from the province of Cambridge came to Saint William. While they had travelled round the holy places of Norwich they finally arrived at the recently dedicated chapel of Saint William in the Wood. When they approached the altar – as pilgrims do – and made offerings, marvellous to tell and even more wonderful to see, a certain woman of their company, wanting to go up the steps with them, was repelled by some invisible force. She approached with even more energy, was repelled even more forcefully and withdrew backwards. Not knowing that she had been repelled by divine intervention, she went up the steps a third and a fourth time, tried to ascend, but felt herself repelled much more violently. And because she was ashamed of being repelled before the eyes of those present, she made attempts to repeat her efforts ever more intently and frequently. What need of many words? The woman was striving, ignorant of divine power, and was avid to repeat her presumption. Finally, realizing that she was toiling in vain, the sinful woman came to herself and, conscious of her misdeeds, she broke into a lament of tearful complaint, saying: ‘Oh, sad and miserable me! Oh lost and unhappy woman! I am an impure sinner conscious of so many misdeeds. I have grown insolent over so many years, impenitent and without confession. I do not fear God and I do not respect humankind. With what an irreverent brow, what an audacious mind, what a sinful foot and sacrilegious mind have I presumed to come to these holy places!

  ‘And truly it has happened as I deserve. A witch, shameless and unclean, I have polluted the purity of this holy place by unworthy entry; and, forgetting my sins, I have brought upon myself the avenger of sins. Saint William refuses quite rightly and divine power repels the offering obtained by my filth and in sacrilege of mind and body, since it has deemed my offering unworthy to enter. Woe! Miserable me! Woe, unhappy one!25 What can I do, unfortunate and wretched? Where shall I turn, rejected from on high?’

  These words she inserted into the flood of tears; these words she cried out while wringing her hands. She stripped her veil from her head and – now tearing at her hair with her fingers, now scratching her face, now beating her chest and stamping the ground with her feet – she acted in an astonishing and wretched fashion. Thus she acted for a while, and so drew the attention of those present. T
hen the person standing guard at the altar approached her and asked her why she was behaving so, and why she did not approach the altar with her companions. And having said that, he handed her a candle, so that coming with her light she could receive the reward of access. She said to him: ‘Sir, I am a sinner burdened with sins. I wanted to approach, but could not, and as many times as I tried to approach, I was repelled. A young man of beautiful form rejects me; as often as I approach the steps, he drives and thrusts me away. He is terrible only to my wretched self, while to others he appears to me to be kindly.’

  Having said this she went silent and sat down again. And then, as if exhausted by so much pain and suffering, she calmed down a little and fell asleep for a while. Afterwards she woke up and then rose. Having lit the candle we mentioned, she approached the steps as if to go up, but again he who had repelled her before did so again. And because of this she was confused, ashamed and suffering; she burst into tears and the anguish of her heart showed in tears and sobs. Anxiously, she looked around and said: ‘If there is a priest here, I ask that he come. I shall reveal to him the sins I have committed. I shall recount to him [my] shameful crimes. Let someone come, I beg, to whom I may confess the wickedness of my life, that he may hear the confessions of a penitent; as he hears it, give absolution, and in absolving mete out penance for sins. I believe, and do not doubt, that when I am confessed and absolved by a priest I shall receive the martyr’s support and fully merit access to the sacred altar.’ And a certain very old priest came, took her aside and enjoined penance upon her when she confessed, and admonished her to have confidence from then on.

  What more? She was assured and took the candle out of her bag, relit it and, approaching the steps, she prayed with profuse tears. The compunction of a devout mind furnished tears, and from the fountain of compunction flowed a gushing river of tears, and that river came out into the open and flowed to heaven. The sighs led on to devotion. Her prayer completed, with a timid foot she attempted the ascent. She did not see the vision she had grown used to seeing rejecting her, and so, more confident, she set her foot more assuredly on the steps. Now she did not feel herself repelled, nor saw the one who had pushed her away, and she ascended with a confident foot and light heart and placed the gift of her offering on the altar.

  And so, when I admire the quality of this miraculous event, I bring to mind that glorious penitence of the blessed Mary of Egypt.26 Mary was a sinner of a noble family and finest character, who presumed to dare a sacrilegious entry into the holy places of Jerusalem. This disgraceful trickster, in the likeness of an old woman, entered with shameless foot the chapel of Saint William recently consecrated in the wood in Norwich. Mary had been prevented visibly by the invisible power of the glorious Mother of God from entering the oratory; and this one was manifestly thrust back from her entry to the altar by the manifest power of the glorious martyr William. In both cases there was confusion of shame and suffering, but compunction followed confusion, and compunction was followed by penance. And truly, penitence washes away with profuse tears the stains of many crimes. And so by the benefit of penitent tears the former entered the oratory and the latter deserved access to the sacred altar.

  And this also shows how greatly revered this place should be, which had been consecrated by a bishop of great authority and religious devotion, marked off as the first burial place of the holy martyr William. There divine power frequently worked many and diverse miracles. For in proof of the place’s sanctity there are both the correction by beating in his sleep of Walter, once the servant of William of Hastings,27 and the cure of Batilda,28 once the wife of Gerard the Cook, and also the repelling of the little woman trickster, which we have just described. But the sanctity of the place is commended above all by that outstanding miracle – the miracle of miracles, so to speak – which once occurred in the province of Worcester, and which a monk of Pershore, called Christian, has committed to writing,29 a man indeed strong in religion and learning, who sent it to us in Norwich in these words:

  ‘To the holy convent of Norwich, which is strenuous in its service of God, brother Christian, the least of the brothers of Pershore, sinner in life, monk only in habit and name, [sends] peace in the present life and blessedness in the next. Divine mercy has deigned to reveal even to us, far away from you by a long distance, with how much joy He has shone upon you before all others in the region, even in the whole world, in our time, I say, and has corroborated it with a wonderful proof. There is then a man in our parts, known by name, of great fame, from a distinguished family, blessed in his progeny, named Adam of Crombe.30 And his neighbours described him as blessed in many ways, especially fortunate in having progeny of both sexes. And these offspring were devout monks, strong knights, most beautiful youths, and daughters – or better still, virgins – of beauty and modesty incomparable in the province. In their faces it was easy to recognize royal descent and in their manners the pious severity of the father and the modest discipline of the mother. The youngest of these in birth was called Agnes, and for a long time she had been vexed by sickness and spent a long time in bed, until she was reduced by the wretched sickness to despair of her life. Wretched, I say, because she was oppressed many times a day by severe pain, throwing her arms about, rolling her eyes, utterly feeble, tossing and turning. And those who were present saw nothing save that she was breathing. On one occasion her sisters, moved by pity and affected by the sight of her pain, were present with the chaplain and the family to witness the end; then, with her arms relaxed, body composed, her eyes gently closed and even the pain abated, she began to speak as if she had met with someone worthy of veneration, answering him with great care – except that, since they were not found worthy to see and hear his name, they would have believed her to be disturbed by a nightmare, but for the great solemnity of her expression and the seriousness of the words. When they had borne this for a while, finally, those of greater wisdom began to ask her with determination what she was looking at, whom she was meeting, to whom she was replying with such evident reverence. She said to them: “I see a most beautiful youth, bleeding, bearing a cross.” When they pressed her to go on, she continued. “I follow,” she said, “and I shall follow earnestly and obey carefully. But he enters a wood. Now, passing through a part of the wood; he now enters a wooden chapel situated there. Now he dresses in priestly vestments so as to celebrate Mass. But woe! Miserable me! I fear for my sex. Although there is no one to assist, I do not presume to act as a server. But behold, here is someone more worthy and holier than me who enters, and much more suitable for sacred things, and I hear he is called Robert.”31 After this she kept quiet for a while and listened most intently; and, after a while, taking a deep breath, in a quiet but very prayerful voice, she responded: Misereatur vestri, etc., and Confiteor deo32 and the rest, which, according to the Church’s usage, is said in prayer before the beginning of the Mass in English. After the completion of the things that customarily precede the Gospel when it is being read, she cried out that she was wretched and unhappy, since she had nothing to offer. The saint sensed her devotion and, through the mentioned Robert, sent her a golden coin.33 Although she received it eagerly, very happy in this gift of the giver, she asked that she might rather be kissing his hand, and he proffered [it]. She also received from his most holy hands – after the peace34 was given to her – the sacrament of the body and blood of Jesus Christ, the salvation of all right-believing people.35 Having enacted all that pertained to the sacrament, according to the ecclesiastical order, taking advantage of the time and place, she timidly and with reverence spoke to God’s saint: “My Lord, most worthy of all devotion, holy blessed, dear to God, who are you that I invoke for help in my illness, for solace in my destitution, for support in my misery, for relief of my pains and sorrows?” Then he, as we believe, breathing the divine sweetness which is known to those who dwell in heaven, suffering with her pain, having compassion for the virginal anguish, joyful but with gravity, looked at her with the kindest expression a
nd answered with sweet words, that he is the William whom they call saint. And she threw herself at the feet of the saint: “Saint William,” she cried, “have mercy on me who is most wretched of all! Saint William, bring healing to the anguish of all my sufferings. Saint William, look at my infirmities and help with speedy pity!” “You will be cured,” he said, “but pay careful attention to the manner of your cure. You will take the material of which the great sacraments are made – that is, holy water – and wash the feet of the crucifix in the name of God the Father almighty, and the Son, who is consubstantial with the Father, and the Holy Spirit, coeternal with the Father and Son.36 In it you will crumble morsels of bread and consume it in good faith and without delay and you will acquire health. And that will not only be a remedy for your illness, but also relief to all those ill with whatever illness, if they – as we said – use it while invoking God in good faith. And so that you find a good example in it, you will give some of it to the person suffering a fever who is in torment in the new church at Croome, and he will be cured immediately. Of the medicines which you have used up to now, some harmed and none helped. You should remain humble in virginity, and you should indulge yourself in no way in the foods you eat, keeping moderation in all things. Flee from the world – that is, from worldly things. Adhere to God and to the things which are of God.37 But lest you go off the road out of ignorance of the places on it, or roam alone in byways, I give you this Robert, as guide and guardian.” Having heard this and after a blessing was given, they set out on the way, with speed to shorten it, but with no part of such a journey omitted, and arrived in Croome. And there, once she was placed in safety, she was left by her guide, who took his leave. And, indeed, no part of her journey had been wasted, for she could list very clearly the routes of each day, the names of the places, their types and qualities, taught to her by her guide. And she, who had never been more than seven miles away from her father’s house, could not be corrected in word by those who frequently travel the route on foot and horseback. After she had come to herself, she asked that they hurry with what had been ordered, that they prepare them and offer what had been prepared; she ate, she drank and she got well. She instructed that [the remedy] be shared with the said fever-stricken person. When they claimed that there was no such person there, she, on the other hand, proved [there was] by the fact that she had seen him in front of the church when she was returning. And as he drank it, he was restored to his previous health. Let us then beg the solace of so great an intercessor, so that he who had truly followed Christ, truly carrying a cross, would truly and mercifully also reconcile us by his holy merits to Christ, so that as we come out of the bondage of clay, we may be gathered into celestial delight and see the face of the Creator. To Him be the praise, honour and power, for ever and ever. Amen.38